


Blind-Sided

by ladielazarus



Category: X-Men (Ultimateverse), X-Men Evolution, X-men AU
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:43:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladielazarus/pseuds/ladielazarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She isn't sure when she decided that she wanted him, but she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind-Sided

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Smile  
> This is some weird amalgamation of Ultimates and Evolution, I think. I'm not really sure. Kitty's approximately 17 or 18, though, and Pete is 19.

“So, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?”

He chokes on the smoke that he had inhaled right before she spoke. Of all the questions that he could have imagined, this is certainly not one of them. Of course, she's been the most surprising bit of this horrific ordeal so far. Why in the world his dad thought that it would be a good idea to send him to some American version of Hogwarts for mutants is beyond him.

He gets his coughing under control, which he's sure makes him look incredibly smooth and Brosnan-esque, and turns around to face his attacker.

“Aren't you Jewish?”

Kitty Pryde had been leaning against the porch railing, but now she comes to stand in front of him, regarding him with a slightly suspicious air.

“How do you know that?”

Pete takes a deep drag on his cigarette, blowing smoke back over his shoulder. Then, leaning forward, he reaches out and plucks a thin, silver chain from around her neck and lifts it from underneath her shirt. He lets it drop on top of the shirt, raising an eyebrow. Kitty blushes, but doesn't pull away. “I didn't know that you'd seen that.”

“You leaned over pretty far the other day in the kitchen.” He waggles his eyebrows in a way that he'll probably only be able to get away with for another couple of years.

“...Oh.” She pauses and, for a moment, he thinks that she might hit him. Instead, she does something that shocks them both.

She reaches out, grabs his t-shirt, and kisses the living daylights out of him. He, using what little brain power remains at that point, kisses her back. He's wanted her since at least two hours after he met her, and he doesn't have the mental system requirements, at nineteen years old, to really question her motives all that thoroughly.

Even if he could, he wouldn't really care.

He backs her up against the wall of the house, and she lets him. It's about nine-thirty at night, and most of the cast of the absurd drama that is the X-men have retired for the evening, so they have the place to themselves, more or less.

 

Pete slides his hands up underneath her t-shirt, and waits for the refusal that he fully expects, but it doesn't come. She's into this just as much as he is, God help him, and he takes that as an invitation to reach up and unhook her bra.

She's only done this a couple of times, and she's not sure when she decided that she wanted him, but she does. She's also not entirely sure what she's doing, really, but she hasn't noticed him minding so far. Of course, once he gets her shirt shoved up, and her bra unhooked, he gets his mouth on her breast and she pretty much stops noticing things all together.

He takes advantage of his successful distraction to get her jeans unbuttoned. He gets them down far enough, he thinks, but she apparently disagrees, and she phases one leg free of the fabric and wraps it, immediately, around his waist, leaving one, lone flip-flop on the deck. She grinds herself against the bulge in his jeans. That's when he realizes that he's far too dressed.

The same thing has occurred to her, it seems, because she pushes him away enough to pull his t-shirt up and reaches for his belt-buckle the minute that the cotton clears his navel.

He almost laughs at her impatience, but he's not feeling much more patient himself. Her fumbling attempts to undo the clasp while leaning up to kiss him again, keep causing her hand to brush against his erection and he doesn't really think that he can handle much more of that, at the moment, so he gently moves her hands out of the way and takes care of his belt, buttons and zipper himself.

There are several thousand things that he'd like to do to her, most of which would be frowned on by the moral majority, but right now, he's really only got one thing on his mind, and that's the main event. Still, he's been with enough girls, even at his age, to know that he's not going to do himself any favours by stampeding forward without considering her at all.

And so, he drags a hand up her left leg, smiling, in response, when she giggles slightly into the kiss. When he reaches the juncture of her thighs, he encounters a wetness that does nothing to quell the lust that's raging in his system. Pryde is even more into this than he expected, and he's completely okay with that.

Evidence notwithstanding, he still makes the effort to work long, thin fingers through her folds and use every trick in his admittedly limited repertoire to bring her to orgasm. He decides, then and there, that if he's ever heard a sound that's sexier than the breathy little noises she's making in his ear when she comes, then he can't remember what it is.

At least, until he actually gets inside her and she does this magnificent groaning thing. He swears to any deity ever that his heart actually stops for a few seconds while he adjusts to the incredible sensation. But then, just as suddenly, he's moving and she's panting again, and he has to think about Arsenal's stats for the last two seasons to keep himself from losing it then and there.

Yeah, Wisdom, do try to hold it together for the requisite three seconds. He thinks to himself, while he uses his fingers again to make sure that she enjoys it at least as much as he does.

Her second orgasm is easier for him to achieve than her first one and that's all it takes for him to give himself permission to come right after her. She slides her leg slowly down the back of his, lowering it to the deck so that she can stand on shaky limbs. She drops, almost immediately, to pull her jeans and underwear back on, and Pete wants to jump her all over again watching her slide them back up. Of course, that could have a lot to do with the fantastic breasts that are still on display. She probably thinks that they're too small. They always do. Still, he's suitably impressed.

She notices his regard as he gets his own clothes back on and, while grinning widely at him, slides her bra straps down her shoulders and tucks the basic black cotton garment into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulls her t-shirt back down and into place, but the mere knowledge that she isn't wearing a bra anymore lets him picture her without it and he's definitely hard again.

She turns to go back into the house and, for a moment, he thinks that that might really be it. He has actually almost resigned himself to having a wank in a cold shower by the time she reaches the french doors that lead back into the house.

She turns around, smirking and with one eyebrow raised. He's always had a thing for girls who can do that.

“Are you coming or what?”


End file.
